Next Contestant
by aydenjett
Summary: Sure she's hot. Sure she can sing. Doesn't mean they get to ravage her with their eyes. I mean, this is just her job. She HAS to look like that. She has to look like she wants them. That's what she's here for, to keep them coming back.


**A/N: I know I haven't uploaded anything in a while, but I was suddenly inspired by listening to my old Nickelback CD with my favorite song (Next Contestant). I have a few other fics in the works, but I get sidetracked. Like I have 4 or 5 half written, but I wrote this all in one night. I know, I'm ADD. Don't judge me. Also, I wanted to thank all the people who commented on "Tourniquet" and added the story (or me) to their alerts and favorites. I love you! And you all get cookies :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Victorious, or the song used as inspiration. If I did, this fic would be real life and I'd be content. But I don't and it's not and I'm not. So... *sticks tongue out***

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><p>Next Contestant<p>

I watched my girlfriend enter the backstage of the club, waving bye and mouthing good luck. I knew Cat had a job to do, but it didn't mean I had to like it. Everyone just fucking fawned over her. They look at her like she's a piece of meat, something to eat. It's fucking sick. Sure she's hot. Sure she can sing. Doesn't mean they get to ravage her with their eyes, pervs. I mean, this is just her job. She HAS to look like that. She has to look like she wants them. That's what she's here for, to keep them coming back.

I hate that she has to wear her 'uniform.' The thing shouldn't even count as clothing. Of course, I appreciate it. The problem is everyone else. They even have the nerve to try to touch her while she's on stage. My blood boils. When that happens, she looks at me while she sings, calming me with her eyes. Sometimes she'll wag a finger if the person grabbed her ass, but they're never deterred. I feel the need to literally beat some sense into them. Possibly tear their heads off if they come on to her.

It's a long walk from the stage to the door where I normally stand, and there are ragged men always waiting to hand her a drink. Of course, the DJ has told them every time that she doesn't take drinks, but they're drunken assholes. Trying to get in her pants with alcohol. They get too close for comfort and I have to step in and shove them off. It happens every fucking night. Sometimes I wish she'd just take the night off so I can relax, but no such luck. She's a performer at heart and loves it on stage. I can't deny her that.

I guess most of the regulars have figured out we're together, 'cause even the women are starting to try to jump her bones after shows. It's almost frightening. I have to beat them off her. It's sickening. And every night gets worse.

Apparently not everyone knows we're together, because earlier tonight this guy in his twenties started to pine after her. She, of course, batted her eyelashes and he went crazy. He began to reach for her as she walked across stage. Finally getting his big, meaty hand on her, he didn't let go. Cat kept her cool, almost used to it, but I freaked. I moved swiftly through the crowd of dancers, the heavy beat of music matching the thrumming of my heart loud in my ears. It pumped me up more. I finally made eye contact with Cat and she silently pleaded for me to let it go. I wouldn't have it. I mouthed back that this time somebody's getting hurt.

I walked up to the dude and he barely glanced at me, too wrapped up in Cat. I slammed my fist on the table to get his attention. He finally looked and I said "Is that your hand on my girlfriend?" I must have looked serious because he dropped his hand. But he stared at me and I could see the challenge in his inebriated eyes. "I wish you'd do again. I'll watch you leave here limping." I glared my harshest glare. The one that people made up the saying 'if looks could kill' about. He seemed to have gotten the message through his thick skull and began to head toward the bright red exit sign.

Then some tough chick I'd seen around before walks up like she wants to say something. I give her the glare as well and she throws her hands up in peace, leaving her unopened beer on the table before walking away. 'There goes the next contestant,' I thought cheerfully. I looked back up at Cat, who had still been singing throughout the whole ordeal, and gave her a look that said both 'I love you' and 'I hate this' simultaneously. She finished her song with a giggle, bowed, and was dismissed from center stage as "Lollipop." I strutted from my stance towards the back where I knew my girlfriend would be waiting.

I meet her as she's leaving her dressing room and look at her knowingly.  
>"Jadey, I know this is hard for you, but you need to relax!" she says hugging me to her.<br>"Sorry, babe, but that's not going to happen. Not while I'm here." 'No way in hell, is more like it.'  
>"Then maybe you should come to less shows?" Cat offers. I look at her like she's an alien.<br>"Right, so some sick bastard can pull you off stage and have his way with you in the alley out back? Fuck no." I'm seething at this point.  
>"Language, Jadey. And calm down; it was just a suggestion. I like you there so I can see you watch me while I sing, but I don't like you getting so angry. You always get angry with me, too." The look on her face is pitiful; I soften a bit.<br>"Oh, Cat. I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you. I get frustrated with your job, not you. I promise." I take her hand as we leave the club and begin walking back to our apartment.  
>"Really? I'm not doing anything wrong?" She asks with hope in her voice. It crushes me that I made her think that.<br>"No, sweetie. Not at all." I assure her with a kiss to the top of her head. "Well, except for looking exceptionally hot, but you can't help that." I grin down at her, hoping to have lightened her mood. It had.  
>"Aww, Jadey! You think I'm hot?" she asks, her face lighting up.<br>"Simply ravishing." I state in the British accent she loves so much. Leering at her, I nip at her exposed ear. She begins to giggle and quickly leans up to kiss me on the cheek. As she plays with her vibrant hair, we fall silent. "Hey, you want to go get some ice-cream, Cat?" I suddenly ask, breaking her out of her reverie.  
>"Yay, ice-cream!" she squeals happily and hugs me tighter. I chuckle at how easy it is to please her. Laughing, we turn south, making our way to the closest ice-cream parlor. She links her arm through mine and settles her head against my shoulder, toying with the tie on my pea coat. I smile a rare smile as I watch the moonlight hit her hair just so, making it shine with brilliance. I sigh, contentedly, the events of the night forgotten as we lose ourselves in the streets of Brooklyn.<p>

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><p><strong>AN: So... Idk why they're in Brooklyn. Don't ask. It just came to me as I was writing the line. ADD, remember? Anyways, REVIEW! And tell me how sorry you were for the guy Jade glared at. I know I am. Seriously. I had him walk out so you wouldn't see him cry. Please review, even if it's to tell me you hated the story, you don't like the song or the band, you think I'm too ADD, whatever. I'll take it. Please? **


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